


Ruins

by Kay_Space_Prince (EliasGrey)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 03:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliasGrey/pseuds/Kay_Space_Prince
Summary: Centuries after the Second Great War, a wanderer explores one of the old gods' temples. Technically an alternate future in Estardian canon.





	Ruins

Wanderer strained her eyes across the desert horizon, hoping to find her destination before the frigid night fell. She tucked a stray hair back into the hood and mask wrapped around her face, a barrier against occasional dust devils. Her feet struck sand with dull thuds as the sands slowly parted, revealing a colossal structure rising out of the sand, resolving into  an ancient temple to a long-forgotten god. As Wanderer drew closer, she noticed the numerous cracks running through supporting columns and bloodstains on the steps from centuries-old sacrifices nearly scoured off by the elements. Her dirty fingers brushed the stone reverently as she walked by, feeling for the memories of those far off days. 

If there ever had been doors to this temple, they were long gone by the time Wanderer climbed the steps and walked into the gaping blackness of the interior. The massive marble hall was lined with tarnished sconces, too broken to even be worth plundering. As she entered, Wanderer noticed the faint smell of burning incense coming from farther in, past the empty alcoves. Curious, she lowered her hood and followed the scent, her footsteps falling louder as the white noise of the sandstorm receded. Any sounds she heard now came from her, in the silence like that of a tomb was too oppressive and heavy to break with a mere human voice.

At the end of the hall was an enormous throne the height of two men, and made entirely of gold and marble, facing out to the desert. When she reached it, Wanderer turned in a slow circle, taking everything in and turning her eyes upwards. The ceiling was hidden in darkness, even after she had dug in her pack for a lantern and lit it. 

She turned around slowly, looking back through the hall. It was an enormous structure that must have glimmered with candle light and a window looking out towards empty desert, and yet despite all the materials and the past wealth of the temple, it was an empty view. The homes of the people who built this place were long gone, destroyed by invading armies perhaps, or buried in the sand.

Wanderer paused to watch the sunset for a moment, appreciating the way the red light spilled across the dunes like blood, but her curiosity soon got the better of her and she set to investigating the throne. It was a hard, geometric thing, with straight lines and sharp corners. She walked around it, trailing her fingertips along the stone, and noticed the smell of incense was drifting from behind it.

The small tomb Wanderer saw when she rounded the corner made her stop long enough to say a quick prayer before leaning forward to read the inscription.  _ Beloveds, rest well _ . The alcove which served as a mausoleum was plain when compared to the rest of the temple, but had been lovingly tended. The wood was new and smooth, the stone free from cracks or lichen, and incense burned in a small iron holder that stood directly in front of the inscription. The very air itself was lighter, drawing around Wanderer like a breath. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes and allowing a small smile.

When she opened them again, Wanderer noticed a small door near the floor that was cracked open. Pulling up her mask again and following it out, she found it lead deep into the barren wastelands of the South. Dropping down heavily into the sand, Wanderer noticed a trail of footprints running straight out into the desert, and saw a figure steadily receding out into the night, looking small, and frail, and lonely. 

The stars spun unchanging and indifferent overhead.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally an assignment for a creative writing class where as much of the story as possible was to be told through setting. It's an alternate future of Estardian canon where Cairo doesn't make up with Caleb and Matt before it's too late, falls victim to his own cowardice, and Huojin wins and destroys a lot of Estarda in the Second Great War (which doesn't happen in normal canon).


End file.
